don't be so hard.
When he gets home from work that night, Zack has every intention of going to bed. He really does. It’s just that he gets kind of side-tracked after he showers and changes out of his work clothes by the guy waiting for him in bed with sleepy eyes and a huge smile as soon as he steps into the room. “Go back to sleep,” he tells his boyfriend, not bothering with anything other than a pair of sweats before he crawls into bed. Danny reaches for him instantly, curling around him even though his skin’s still damp from the shower and plants sloppy kisses to the side of his neck affectionately. “I said go to sleep,” Zack grumbles.
“But now I’m awake and I missed you while you were at work,” Danny responds. In the brief instant that is rearranging their bodies into a comfortable position for sleep, somehow their legs end up tangled together and their chests pressed together. Suddenly, Zack doesn’t feel particularly sleepy. He feels electricity everywhere their bodies are touching; he’s kind of wearing too many clothes. Yup. Definitely not sleepy. Certain parts of his anatomy are most definitely awake now, which is bad because it’s two thirty and the alarm is only set for seven. Danny’s knee nudges his and he can feel the flush creeping up his neck even though it’s dark in their room. The only light is coming from the streetlight outside; it’s really too dark to see much more than vague outlines and grey shapes. “Hey, turn on the lights. I wanna see you.”
Zack sighs and resolutely does not turn on the lights. They should be going to bed, but his body is a traitor and reveals its feelings too easily. “No,” he whines against Danny’s lips. “You see me every day and it’s late.” He shifts his hips slightly, trying to coax his body into feeling sleepy instead of incredibly aroused. It’s a little late for that. Besides, his efforts are pretty much aborted when his boyfriend decides to stop kissing him and lean over him to turn on the bedside lamp. Sneaky bastard. Of course once the light is on he can’t stop himself from looking; not that he is conceited or anything but he has got a really good-looking boyfriend. It’s not surprising, then, that he’s powerless to resist. When Danny starts kissing his neck again, he groans, “I hate you,” out of frustration.
The words really aren’t that convincing considering they’re followed by a soft moan; he tips his head back and exhales this tiny, shuddery breath. He can’t stop himself from biting his lip so hard his teeth nearly break the skin. “You don’t hate me,” Danny mumbles hotly against his skin. And this is why he hates his boyfriend sometimes - he’s completely powerless to resist even when he knows that they should be sleeping and not having sex right now. But on the other hand... The sound that escapes his throat when Danny’s teeth graze the skin just above his collarbone is completely shameless.
“Okay,” he gasps, wriggling around just enough that his boyfriend can sling a leg over his and effectively kneel over his legs while they make out some more. Danny’s mouth is hot and wet; he tastes like sleep and toothpaste and it’s good. They kiss until they can’t breathe anymore, pull apart long enough to shed their clothes and toss them onto the floor in a heap. It’s a bit slower than their normal pace - obviously Danny had fallen asleep waiting for Zack to get home - but at the same time, it’s kind of nice to relax into it and not have to rush.
The air in the apartment is cold; it’s late winter and the spring thaw hasn’t really begun yet, but it’s warm in bed. Really warm. “Tastes like soap,” Danny breathes. He licks Zack’s neck playfully - kind of gross, kind of ridiculously hot. “You work too much,” he continues, very deliberately trailing his fingers down Zack’s torso. It’s the worst kind of torture there is because all Zack can do is arch up into the touch and tug on his boyfriend’s hair helplessly. And then Danny nudges his hips forward ever so slightly, just enough to create some friction and the subsequent noises from his boyfriend that this action causes.
“It’s all for you though,” Zack groans, scraping his nails along Danny’s spine as he moves to rest his hands on his boyfriend’s lower back.
Danny says, “I was trying to stay awake until you got home.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm. So you shouldn’t have to, you know, ‘cause I was kind of... earlier.” Zack can practically feel his pupils dilating at that thought. The thought of his boyfriend waiting for him expectantly and fucking prepping himself is such a huge turn-on. While he’s always game for sex, he is also so tired that it feels like he’s going to pass out before he comes. Danny is not making it easy to resist, either; he’s rubbing and touching in all of the right places. Zack is so easy for his boyfriend that it’s ridiculous. He whines softly when Danny draws back for a minute, then he realizes that it’s just a momentary delay in proceedings to look for a condom and some lube. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Zack echoes, bumping his nose against Danny’s when he settles back over Zack’s hips, grinding on him slow and dirty. There’s another pause punctuated by the sound of foil crinkling and then he has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from waking the neighbours when Danny puts the condom on him. It’s not that he’s being loud; it’s the dead of night and they live in a fairly suburban area where there isn’t a lot of traffic at night. That and the walls of the apartment are pretty thin.
Danny lets out a little groan when Zack reaches for his hands and takes the lube away. He groans again - borderline whining by this point - when his boyfriend holds onto his hips to steady him while he sinks down onto Zack slowly. And true to form, he is stretched and ready and so this was totally worth losing sleep over, Zack thinks idly. He’s not moving yet; doesn’t want to hurt Danny so he waits patiently even as he’s being engulfed by this great tight-wet-hot sensation. Instead, he focuses on the feeling of Danny’s thighs resting against his, inhaling slowly through his nose while he stares up at his boyfriend. He rubs his hands over the other man’s arms easily, admiring the taut muscles with an appreciative eye. At last, Danny leans forward and kisses him wetly before telling him, “’S okay, you can move now.”
Zack shifts his hips upward slightly, watching Danny’s face intently for a reaction. “You okay?” he asks, moving his hands back down to rest on Danny’s hips again.
“Yeah.”
So he pushes his hips up a little harder this time; he watches Danny close his eyes, throw his head back as their pace increases frenetically, filling the room with sounds of skin on skin and their breathing. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, slipping one hand between them quickly. It doesn’t take that much longer to reduce Danny to a quivering mess - after all, he’s a session guitarist and has been for several years so his hands are kind of his greatest asset in every way imaginable - and even less time before he himself is whimpering and arching his back desperately.
“I’m - unh,” Danny cries out, which is all the warning Zack gets that before that familiar tightening sensation overwhelms him; he follows after his boyfriend by about ten seconds and then they lie there in a warm, sweaty heap, both panting and holding onto each other. After they’ve both caught their breath, Danny nuzzles his face and says, “I love you.”
Zack looks over his shoulder at their alarm clock. “Four hours of sleep,” he sighs. “You are so lucky that I’m madly in love with you.”
Which causes Danny to snort derisively. “Excuse me for helping you to find a productive use for your time instead of getting another noise complaint issued when you can’t sleep and decide to make all kinds of noise at four a.m. I believe they call that killing two birds with one stone.” The look on his face is so unmistakably smug that if he weren’t so tired his bones feel liquid, Zack would punch him. They have that kind of relationship sometimes.
“I’m sorry, who pays the rent?”
Danny moves to lie down beside him. “The same guy that burns his hands trying to make dinner because he’s too scatter-brained to remember that the oven makes things hot and, by the way, forgot that the time went back an hour tonight so he actually gets five hours of sleep, not four.”
“Knew there was a reason I loved you,” Zack yawns. He presses himself against Danny as much as possible, and before he knows what’s come over him it seems like he’s dropping off into sleep. There is no possible way he’s going to be awake before the alarm for once. Not when their bed is so warm and it’s getting colder and darker by the day and he’s spending ten to twelve hours a day at the studio when he really wants to be at home. So, half an hour after he had intended to be dead to the world, he finally does fall asleep. It was... kind of worth the loss of sleep over this.
“But now I’m awake and I missed you while you were at work,” Danny responds. In the brief instant that is rearranging their bodies into a comfortable position for sleep, somehow their legs end up tangled together and their chests pressed together. Suddenly, Zack doesn’t feel particularly sleepy. He feels electricity everywhere their bodies are touching; he’s kind of wearing too many clothes. Yup. Definitely not sleepy. Certain parts of his anatomy are most definitely awake now, which is bad because it’s two thirty and the alarm is only set for seven. Danny’s knee nudges his and he can feel the flush creeping up his neck even though it’s dark in their room. The only light is coming from the streetlight outside; it’s really too dark to see much more than vague outlines and grey shapes. “Hey, turn on the lights. I wanna see you.”
Zack sighs and resolutely does not turn on the lights. They should be going to bed, but his body is a traitor and reveals its feelings too easily. “No,” he whines against Danny’s lips. “You see me every day and it’s late.” He shifts his hips slightly, trying to coax his body into feeling sleepy instead of incredibly aroused. It’s a little late for that. Besides, his efforts are pretty much aborted when his boyfriend decides to stop kissing him and lean over him to turn on the bedside lamp. Sneaky bastard. Of course once the light is on he can’t stop himself from looking; not that he is conceited or anything but he has got a really good-looking boyfriend. It’s not surprising, then, that he’s powerless to resist. When Danny starts kissing his neck again, he groans, “I hate you,” out of frustration.
The words really aren’t that convincing considering they’re followed by a soft moan; he tips his head back and exhales this tiny, shuddery breath. He can’t stop himself from biting his lip so hard his teeth nearly break the skin. “You don’t hate me,” Danny mumbles hotly against his skin. And this is why he hates his boyfriend sometimes - he’s completely powerless to resist even when he knows that they should be sleeping and not having sex right now. But on the other hand... The sound that escapes his throat when Danny’s teeth graze the skin just above his collarbone is completely shameless.
“Okay,” he gasps, wriggling around just enough that his boyfriend can sling a leg over his and effectively kneel over his legs while they make out some more. Danny’s mouth is hot and wet; he tastes like sleep and toothpaste and it’s good. They kiss until they can’t breathe anymore, pull apart long enough to shed their clothes and toss them onto the floor in a heap. It’s a bit slower than their normal pace - obviously Danny had fallen asleep waiting for Zack to get home - but at the same time, it’s kind of nice to relax into it and not have to rush.
The air in the apartment is cold; it’s late winter and the spring thaw hasn’t really begun yet, but it’s warm in bed. Really warm. “Tastes like soap,” Danny breathes. He licks Zack’s neck playfully - kind of gross, kind of ridiculously hot. “You work too much,” he continues, very deliberately trailing his fingers down Zack’s torso. It’s the worst kind of torture there is because all Zack can do is arch up into the touch and tug on his boyfriend’s hair helplessly. And then Danny nudges his hips forward ever so slightly, just enough to create some friction and the subsequent noises from his boyfriend that this action causes.
“It’s all for you though,” Zack groans, scraping his nails along Danny’s spine as he moves to rest his hands on his boyfriend’s lower back.
Danny says, “I was trying to stay awake until you got home.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm. So you shouldn’t have to, you know, ‘cause I was kind of... earlier.” Zack can practically feel his pupils dilating at that thought. The thought of his boyfriend waiting for him expectantly and fucking prepping himself is such a huge turn-on. While he’s always game for sex, he is also so tired that it feels like he’s going to pass out before he comes. Danny is not making it easy to resist, either; he’s rubbing and touching in all of the right places. Zack is so easy for his boyfriend that it’s ridiculous. He whines softly when Danny draws back for a minute, then he realizes that it’s just a momentary delay in proceedings to look for a condom and some lube. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Zack echoes, bumping his nose against Danny’s when he settles back over Zack’s hips, grinding on him slow and dirty. There’s another pause punctuated by the sound of foil crinkling and then he has to bite the inside of his lip to keep from waking the neighbours when Danny puts the condom on him. It’s not that he’s being loud; it’s the dead of night and they live in a fairly suburban area where there isn’t a lot of traffic at night. That and the walls of the apartment are pretty thin.
Danny lets out a little groan when Zack reaches for his hands and takes the lube away. He groans again - borderline whining by this point - when his boyfriend holds onto his hips to steady him while he sinks down onto Zack slowly. And true to form, he is stretched and ready and so this was totally worth losing sleep over, Zack thinks idly. He’s not moving yet; doesn’t want to hurt Danny so he waits patiently even as he’s being engulfed by this great tight-wet-hot sensation. Instead, he focuses on the feeling of Danny’s thighs resting against his, inhaling slowly through his nose while he stares up at his boyfriend. He rubs his hands over the other man’s arms easily, admiring the taut muscles with an appreciative eye. At last, Danny leans forward and kisses him wetly before telling him, “’S okay, you can move now.”
Zack shifts his hips upward slightly, watching Danny’s face intently for a reaction. “You okay?” he asks, moving his hands back down to rest on Danny’s hips again.
“Yeah.”
So he pushes his hips up a little harder this time; he watches Danny close his eyes, throw his head back as their pace increases frenetically, filling the room with sounds of skin on skin and their breathing. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, slipping one hand between them quickly. It doesn’t take that much longer to reduce Danny to a quivering mess - after all, he’s a session guitarist and has been for several years so his hands are kind of his greatest asset in every way imaginable - and even less time before he himself is whimpering and arching his back desperately.
“I’m - unh,” Danny cries out, which is all the warning Zack gets that before that familiar tightening sensation overwhelms him; he follows after his boyfriend by about ten seconds and then they lie there in a warm, sweaty heap, both panting and holding onto each other. After they’ve both caught their breath, Danny nuzzles his face and says, “I love you.”
Zack looks over his shoulder at their alarm clock. “Four hours of sleep,” he sighs. “You are so lucky that I’m madly in love with you.”
Which causes Danny to snort derisively. “Excuse me for helping you to find a productive use for your time instead of getting another noise complaint issued when you can’t sleep and decide to make all kinds of noise at four a.m. I believe they call that killing two birds with one stone.” The look on his face is so unmistakably smug that if he weren’t so tired his bones feel liquid, Zack would punch him. They have that kind of relationship sometimes.
“I’m sorry, who pays the rent?”
Danny moves to lie down beside him. “The same guy that burns his hands trying to make dinner because he’s too scatter-brained to remember that the oven makes things hot and, by the way, forgot that the time went back an hour tonight so he actually gets five hours of sleep, not four.”
“Knew there was a reason I loved you,” Zack yawns. He presses himself against Danny as much as possible, and before he knows what’s come over him it seems like he’s dropping off into sleep. There is no possible way he’s going to be awake before the alarm for once. Not when their bed is so warm and it’s getting colder and darker by the day and he’s spending ten to twelve hours a day at the studio when he really wants to be at home. So, half an hour after he had intended to be dead to the world, he finally does fall asleep. It was... kind of worth the loss of sleep over this.